


Baroque

by Terminallydepraved



Series: Works for Others [13]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Blood, Feeding, M/M, Sire!silva, Vampire AU, fledgling!chrollo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 11:42:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8577136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminallydepraved/pseuds/Terminallydepraved
Summary: commission fic for Creepiekyttie and dedicated to Silvakuros on tumblr! i hope you enjoy!





	

**Author's Note:**

> commission fic for Creepiekyttie and dedicated to Silvakuros on tumblr! i hope you enjoy!

The woman’s breath came quick and short, her blue eyes dark with fear-tinged want. Silva cupped her cheek and savored her warmth, tilting her head to the side to bare her neck to his gaze. “Look into my eyes, young one,” he murmured, letting the strength of his compulsion bleed into the words, to pervade her mind and mold it to his desires. “Surrender yourself to me, and me alone.”

“Yes,” she gasped, and Silva chuckled, lowering his lips to graze her soft skin. How sweet she would taste. How sweet her surrender would feel. His fangs hovered over her vein, eager to sip from the fount at his lips.

“You are so embarrassing, Silva,” a voice huffed behind him, startling him enough that he nearly severed the woman’s jugular on accident. “That routine went out of vogue at least a hundred years ago.”

The woman sagged against the wall of the alley, too dazed to react to Silva’s growing ire. A hundred years ago. And how would that brat know what was in vogue a hundred years ago? The brat could hardly boast thirty. He let out an angry breath, setting his would-be victim free with a look.

“Go home,” he ordered her, not needing an audience to what he knew was about to occur. “Remember nothing.”

He didn’t bother watching her leave the dark alley, but he did turn in time to see his errant fledging wave goodbye to her from atop the wall, his delicate fingers fluttering like ephemera through the crisp night air. “Chrollo,” Silva grumbled, glaring at him with no measure of welcome. “What possessed you to seek me out tonight of all nights?”

Dark, fathomless eyes rolled, the young vampire as cheeky as ever. He rested his cheek atop his folded arms, lounging on the narrow wall like a lazy cat settling in for a nap. “You don’t sound happy to see me,” he observed, the pout sitting preternaturally well on his youthful face.

Silva approached the wall, staring up at him intently. The wall was not high enough to dissuade him from grabbing him, but he held off on the impulse for the moment. “I’d be happier if you hadn’t run away from me again,” he intoned, watching the graceful path Chrollo’s leg traced as it swung lethargically off the ledge. “You’ve been gone far longer than you were told. Rules are meant to be followed.”

Chrollo sighed, his full bottom lip held between his fanged teeth. A shiver of want eased down Silva’s spine at the sight. He knew how prettily the boy would moan if it were Silva’s fangs worrying his lips.

“I was bored,” he admitted, avoiding Silva’s eyes to observe the crumbling stone upon which he was perched. “I wanted to have some fun. Your rules aren’t fun.”

They weren’t meant to be fun, he wanted to say, but Silva held his tongue. Chrollo made no move to run, so he let his hand fix itself around a slender calve. “And you’ve had your fill of fun then?” he wondered, scenting the thirst alive and well in his fledgling. He hadn’t fed tonight, that much was clear.

Instead of answering, the boy sighed, sitting up only to reach for Silva with outstretched hands. He looked so young when he was being needful, and Silva crumpled, holding out his arms to catch the waif as he shoved off the wall.

“I missed you,” Chrollo whispered in his ear the moment he was in his arms, kissing his cheek sweetly, in a way that reminded Silva of when he was still human.

He should have known it was a trick, but Silva was nothing if not nostalgic.

Sharp fangs ripped into his neck, Chrollo tangling his hands in his long hair as he stole a messy mouthful of his blood. Silva narrowed his eyes and sighed. He really should have expected this.

Stone buckled and bones creaked when he set Chrollo flying, throwing him against the wall of the alley. His shoulder took the brunt of the impact while his lips dripped with blood.

“That wasn’t nice,” Chrollo laughed, breathless but wearing it well.

Silva grit his teeth and grabbed him by the throat, pinning him to the brick so he couldn’t try it again. “You never seem to learn,” he growled, using the length of his body to hold Chrollo’s in place. “If you wanted my blood you should have just come home.”

Slender hands fixed themselves around Silva’s, holding him there like a collar. A pink slip of tongue darted out, licking clean his bloody lips to cheekily taste the mess he’d made of his mouth. “Where’s the fun in that?” he asked, tilting his head to the side, baring his throat like the woman had only minutes ago, in this very same spot.

He was so infuriating, so mindlessly bratty that Silva felt his self-control shatter like ice. Sealing their lips together, he chased the taste of his own ancient blood, teasing the flavor from a mouth as sweet as sugar. Chrollo wrapped his legs around his waist instinctively, falling back into the familiar rhythm they always carried in life and now in death. He was as sweet now as he had been then, when he traded his warmth for an eternity of Silva’s cold touch.

There was a reason why Chrollo was his favorite, and Silva could hardly find it in himself to resist the urge to remind himself of it. He broke away from petal soft lips, burying his fangs into Chrollo’s swanlike neck before he could so much as complain.

“Silva,” he sighed, his dark lashes fluttering while he drank. Unlike so many, Chrollo never shied away from being fed upon. If anything, he delighted in the intimacy of the act. “Silva, oh, Silva.”

He drank deeper, savoring the sound of his name as it came from a voice like a dove. With him this pliable, he’d have no trouble taking him back home with him, to his bed, to where he belonged.

He’d more than make up for the meal he’d lost Silva, of that he was sure.

**Author's Note:**

> check out more of my writing and other details on my tumblr (terminallydepraved) and let me know how you liked this! until next time~


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